"The tip of my pen paused over the sign of Saturn and then moved like a hand on a ouiji board across the chart in a direct line to Neptune and stopped. Damn! I stopped breathing. The pen circled the rim again looking for something else—Jupiter, Venus, Uranus—what else was happening? Coming around full circle it hovered over Saturn, quivering there on the line-- the cusp between the 5th and 6th houses, between health and illness. My mind quickly calculated the 90 degree square to Jupiter, and froze. My hand lost its grip on the pen; paralyzed. I didn't want to see that, I didn't want to know.
I've been studying astrology for thirty-eight years. Eighteen years ago I started charging money for my services. But I'm not the kind of astrologer who traces her chart daily—in fact, I've always been a little dense when it comes to understanding my own chart. Or maybe I just resist looking. But this morning, after seeing Dr Haverstein I just had to look closer. Besides, maybe I would see something there that he had hadn't seen. So when I got home, I opened my computer and pulled up my chart.
I have always felt that the more information we have the better choices we make. Yet the more we know, the greater the array of possibilities. Naiveté is seldom a good position for making choices, but neither is fear. But how much is it helpful to know? I see myself as one who likes to delve beneath the surface of things to find out what's really happening—and yet, I question--does it really do any good to have a glimpse into what could happen?
Ancient astrologers have always proclaimed that character equals fate, and therefore as we change our character we change our fate. Sounds reasonable, but these subjects are so much more fun to debate over a glass of wine than over the lens of anybody's x-ray.
I'm scheduled to have a Cat scan on my lungs tomorrow. If cysts are found, there will have to be an operation. And if the liquid from the cyst spills into my lungs it could kill me. But the doctor said he has medicine for that. They can stop the infection. Don't worry, he said, I'm sure you'll be fine.
Right now I'm looking at my astrological x-ray of the psyche. This cat-scan shows a Saturn-Neptune opposition; a classic signature of disease. But it's occult; hidden. With Neptune one can never see clearly—it could even be an illusion—not even there. And there's also Saturn squaring Jupiter, hinting at a certain lack of luck or grace. I will have to use my own medicine here; my own way of seeing the larger picture overlaying the smaller picture. And with Neptune, there will be layers of meaning and metaphor here; perhaps an illusive prognosis, or lost pieces of information. Don't worry I tell myself, I'm sure it will be fine. It shouldn't be so hard after all, it's the work I do--it shouldn't be so hard. "
This journal entry was something I wrote awhile back, and it was interesting for me to find it again today and to see that what I believed to be an almost life-threatening disease--a Saturn/Neptune disease, having to do with a parasite I picked up in Mexico--was really FEAR of the disease. I may actually have the disease but it is occult, hidden, and not treatable. A Neptunian disease for sure...and it never caused any problems once the transit passed!
Elizabeth Spring www.elizabethspring.com
*Painting is by my grandmother, Elizabeth English, done in 1904. It's called "The Fortune-Teller".